'Delaney? Any relation to Alice?'
'Her kid brother. He comes to stay with her some weekends.'
It took a while to disentangle the donkeys, who had somehow become enmeshed in the guy ropes holding up the tent. They watched a furious Rector, who seemed to be having great difficulty in moderating his language, berating the riders, who were claiming wide-eyed innocence.
'You b- stupid idiots were supposed to be giving rides to the children, not playing cowboys and Indians!' he shouted.
'We were, but there were no more customers for the moment, so we thought we'd have a ride. After all, they're our bloody donkeys,' one of the lads said sulkily.
'It was that bloody foreign animal scared them,' the other put in. 'Look how it frightened the pony too,' he added, pointing to where the still fractious pony was being soothed by two teenage girls.
Doc was leading Rosa away to where he'd parked the horsebox. He looked furious. There was obviously going to be no more llama rides today.
'I'd better go and see if I can help,' Flick said.
'And I'll see if they need help clearing up in the tea tent.'
*
The two boys were swearing and complaining as they led the donkeys back towards the end of the field. Lucy avoided them as she went into the tea tent. Somehow, although she'd loved having donkey rides on the beach when she was a child, they looked more dangerous than Rosa.
Inside the tent no one was clearing up. A group of women were clustered at the side, where the serving table had been. Lucy could see a few chairs which had been righted, and women sitting on them. One woman was weeping hysterically, another sat with her head in her hands, and two lolled back, eyes closed, and lips moving, though no words could be distinguished because of the general babel from the rest of them.
Then she saw Mrs Thomas, sitting on the ground with her skirts pulled up to her thighs, and a competent-looking girl of about sixteen dousing her with water from various plastic containers which another girl was ferrying to her from the pile at the back of the tent. It was what the tea ladies had brought to supply the urns, she assumed, and then she saw one of the urns on the floor, on its side, just past Mrs Thomas.
'What's happened?'
It was Mrs Rogers who answered. 'The urn was knocked over and poor Mrs Thomas was scalded, on her hands and legs, but we think she's broken her leg as well.'
'Is Dr Sinclair here?'
'Someone's gone to find him, but we've phoned for an ambulance too. Lucy, help me put the tables back up, and perhaps these silly women will pull themselves together and help. We can still serve teas and cakes, not all of them have been ruined.'
They began to tidy up. Someone found a box and began to pick up the broken crockery. Someone else found bin bags to put the rubbish in, and when Robert Sinclair came in the panic was almost over.
Five minutes later they heard the bell of an ambulance, and ten minutes later poor Mrs Thomas had been carried away, Robert going with her.
Before he stepped into the ambulance he looked round and beckoned to Lucy. 'Lucy, do you know where Doc is, or Flick?'
'I think they're with Rosa. They may have taken her home.'
'Can you tell them Mrs Thomas will be in hospital for quite a while? I think it's a clean break, but we can only tell after an X-ray. The scalding on her legs will complicate things. Thank goodness that child had the sense to throw cold water on them.'
With a smile he was gone. Villagers who had not been in the tea tent swarmed round her demanding to know what had happened, who was hurt, and how. She told them the barest details and then pushed her way out of the crush and went to find Doc.
The only horsebox in the car park belonged to the pony's owner. A tearful girl of about twelve was helping to load the animal, while her mother, Lucy presumed, was tongue lashing into her with complaints that she was not responsible enough to be left looking after a mouse, let alone a pony, and this was the last time they would be offering pony rides anywhere, let alone at Shorter's Green.
She turned back. She didn't need to add to the poor child's misery by having her know her disgrace was being witnessed. Doc had obviously gone home, and probably Flick with him.
Should she go to the farm, which would mean either a longish walk or collecting her van from the cottage on the way, or phone?
She dredged up her mobile from the bottom of her handbag, and discovered the battery was flat. Oh well, decision made. She'd have to go to the farm. Next question, walk or collect the van?
She could, of course, ask Kate for her mobile, but somehow, the idea of talking to Doc while Kate stood beside her listening did not appeal. She looked round for her sister and saw her talking to Judy and Alice, who was holding onto her brother's hand while he squirmed and twisted in an effort to get free of her. She couldn't face them. Kate would find her way home when the fête was over, and she might even be back herself by then.
*
Doc received the bad news with no more than a sigh and frown.
'Which hospital? I'll go and see her, or phone to ask how she is.'
'I don't know, but Robert went with her. You could try him later.'
'Thanks, I will. Oh well, Flick will have to cope,' he said, and glanced across the farmyard where she'd found him. Kevin, looking sheepish, with Flick beside him, talking to him and giving him anxious looks, was coming in from the direction of Rosa's orchard.
She left, hurriedly. She'd no desire to witness what she guessed would be a rough meeting.
A few hours later Kate and Lucy were sitting under the apple tree after supper, relaxing with a bottle of wine, when Flick appeared and flung herself down on the grass.
'Please can I hide out here for an hour or two, while the bullets fly?'
'What bullets?' Kate asked.
She handed Flick a glass of wine and she drank deeply, Then she sighed.
'Cas rarely loses it, but after the fiasco at the fête and poor Tommy's injuries he's in a dangerous mood.'
'How is Mrs Thomas?' Lucy asked.
'Some bad scalding, and a broken leg. She'll be out of action for weeks, and my precious brother expects me to take over all the cooking and whatever! Fat chance! I'm not a housekeeper. He can get someone from an agency. But he's livid with me as well now.'
'Not surprising,' Lucy said. 'I don't mean with you, but with those lads who caused the upset. Apart from Mrs Thomas there was quite a lot of damage in the tea tent.'
'And I heard the takings on the whole fête will be half last year's,' Kate added.
Flick sighed. 'He was letting fly at Kevin for not looking after Rosa, threatening to sack him, when Alice turned up, and he started blaming her for distracting Kevin and letting Alex lead Rosa. She's fallen off her pedestal with an almighty crash. I can't see her becoming Mrs Finlay now.'
'Were they engaged?' Kate asked, sitting up and refilling the glasses.
'Almost, I think. Nothing official, but if it's over I'm thankful. I couldn't bear to live with such perfection. No way could I compete. I'd have to move away from the farm.'
Kate laughed. 'Somehow I can't see Alice as a farmer's wife. She's too – well, delicate, I suppose.'
'She's so beautiful,' Flick sighed. 'Every unmarried man in the village, and quite a few of the married ones, fell hard when she arrived a year ago. But she's clever as well, is good at her job, and worst of all, she's so damned nice!'
Lucy was finding it difficult to breathe. She'd suspected something between Doc and Alice, and tried to stop feeling attracted to him, but if they were finished... She shook her head and banished stupid thoughts. After Alice, Doc would never give her a glance.
'What has Doc got that the other men in the village haven't?' Kate asked. 'If Alice had free choice, why him? I know he's good looking, but I've seen some even better.'
'Money,' Flick said briefly.
'Money? But I thought all farmers were poor? They're always complaining of poor harvests or low prices,' Lucy said. Despite herself, the thought
crossed her mind that she'd have even less chance of attracting a rich Doc.
'Cas's farming is only a hobby. That's why he's into all these crazy schemes with llamas and alpacas. His grandfather made a fortune, and his father doubled and trebled it with share dealings and property speculation. He was over fifty when he married, and Cas inherited it when he was three. He owns hotels and restaurants and a chain of delicatessen shops, and – all sorts of things, but he appoints good managers and lets them get on with it, just paying a visit occasionally to check up on them.'
'So he's seriously rich,' Kate said thoughtfully. 'Just the sort of man I'm looking for.'
'Kate!'
She laughed. 'Oh, Lucy, I'm not going to rush over to the farm and throw myself at his feet. I'm more subtle than that!'
The trouble was, Lucy believed her.
'Good luck,' Flick said, 'but I suspect you'll have a hard time. He'll be off women for months now. Or rather, he'll be playing the field, going out with a different girl every week. I've seen it happen before, when he was engaged to one of my best friends and she ran off with an Italian Count.'
'Does he make a habit of getting engaged?' Lucy asked.
'He was only twenty-three then, a callow youth! And he and Alice were not officially engaged. But enough of them. The Thorpe twins, who caused all that mayhem, were the ones Alice heard talking in the pub about letting Rosa out. They've been complaining for weeks, ever since Cas suggested it, that llama rides would stop children riding on their donkeys. My own bet is that they pocketed some of the takings for themselves instead of turning it over to the fête.'
'So they may have let Rosa out in the hope she'd get hurt, or lost,' Lucy said. 'Can you prove it?'
'Not unless they admit it.'
Just then they heard a car drive down the lane, and Flick jumped up and looked over the hedge.
'It's Alice, and she doesn't look very happy,' she reported. 'There does not appear to have been a kiss and make up session. I wonder if it's safe to go back yet?'
*
Chapter 10
The next two weeks were quiet. Lucy had a few clients, not enough to make a living, but they were pleased and said they'd pass the word around to their friends, so she was hopeful. Kate's posters were bringing in more clients. She started her job in Oxford, and seemed enthusiastic, though she grumbled that she had more homework to do than she'd ever had at school. Lucy went with Flick to see Mrs Thomas, who was recovering well, but would not be back at work for a couple of months.
Flick told them she'd utterly refused to step into Mrs Thomas's shoes, so Cas had found a temporary housekeeper from an agency.
'But she's hopeless,' Flick confided on Monday morning when she dropped in for coffee. 'She can't cook anything but Irish stew and rice pudding, and she refuses to do any housework other than cleaning the kitchen. Cas is climbing the wall, and he keeps looking at her with that nasty speculative gleam in his eye. I know that the next time he has to eat Irish stew he'll explode. She'll be gone, and I won't be able to resist him. I'm tired of Irish stew as well! There's been nothing but problems since the fête. Kevin walked off in a huff, and I don't blame him after the dressing down he got. Alice has left Cuticurls and is working in Oxford, and Cas can't find anyone to replace her, and – '
'Hang on, why should Cas worry about that? Or did you mean replace her as his girlfriend?'
Flick was embarrassed. 'Damn! I didn't mean to let it out. Cas swore me to secrecy when he knew what you were planning to do. He owns the place.'
'He owns Cuticurls? Doc? Your brother?' Lucy could hardly believe it. He was responsible for that over-priced, poncy salon. Her opinion of him took a nosedive.
Flick nodded. 'He owns a lot of things, I told you. It was just a good opportunity when the previous owner retired.'
'But why didn't he tell me?'
'Well, at the party, you didn't seem to approve of it, and as you were setting up in opposition he thought it better not to embarrass you there. And really, there hasn't been any other opportunity.'
She didn't know whether to be furious at the secrecy, or thankful she hadn't known before. Doc's willingness to make money from Cuticurls struck her as being greedy, if what Flick had told her about his other wealth was true. Yet he hadn't wanted her to know. Was that consideration for her, knowing they were in competition, or embarrassment that he owned the place?
Flick was speaking again. 'It's my birthday bash Saturday week, at the King's Head. I'd have had it at home if Tommy had been here to oversee the catering, but in the circumstances that's impossible. Cas would sit in a corner and glower. This way he needn't come if he doesn't feel like it. But you and Kate will come, won't you? How about the delicious Edward? And has Kate a boyfriend?'
'I haven't heard from Edward, and so far Kate seems to be going out for after work drinks with a different man each day.'
'Then I'll have to make sure there are a few unattached men around for you both.'
After she'd gone Lucy sat by the kitchen table trying to adjust her ideas about Doc. She still couldn't imagine why he would tolerate owning such a place as Cuticurls, and blushed when she recalled how contemptuous she'd been about it. But she still held those views. Did it mean her difficult feelings for Doc had changed?
She knew it was a form of hero-worship. Or perhaps it was because when she'd met him she was feeling vulnerable, let down by Edward, and he'd been the first attractive man she'd met while in that state. Then she reminded herself she'd met him before Edward's transgression, in the market, and lusted after him straight away. That hadn't been a proper meeting, though, with conversation. She knew he'd never want her, not after he'd been in love with Alice. But she was history, a small insistent voice kept repeating. Lucy hadn't seen her since the fête, but then, she'd made an excuse not to go to the next WI meeting. Flick hadn't gone either, and she didn't want to ask anyone else, her clients, whether Alice had been there. They'd know she was too interested, and it wouldn't take them long to figure out why.
She was bending over the washing machine, getting out a load, when there was a knock at the door. She jumped, clutched at a clump of laundry, hit her head on the counter top, and swore.
'Lucy? I'm sorry, did I startle you?'
Doc was leaning over the half door. She stood up and rubbed her head. It hurt.
'What do you want?'
She knew she sounded ungracious, but didn't care. Doc wasn't the man she'd thought he was.
He grinned, and she found all her hostility and suspicions dissolve. Her insides felt as though they were dissolving, too. He pushed open the lower half of the door, walked over to her, took the load of washing out of her arms, then rubbed her head. His touch was so gentle, and she wanted to throw herself into his arms. Perhaps he'd kiss it better.
'Better?' he asked, and his voice had that deep, delicious timbre that made her heart beat faster. She was sure he could hear it, and all she was capable of doing was nodding.
'I'm going to take Rosa to Cappuccino again tomorrow, and I'm hoping you can come with her as before. I'm so sick of the farm at the moment, I'm escaping. But I have to leave Flick here to oversee it. We'll be back on Friday if you have any clients. Well?'
Lucy was calculating rapidly. Three nights at an hotel with Doc. More romantic dinners, and this time no Alice back at home to phone him. She had no appointments this week until Friday evening and Saturday morning, so that wasn't a problem. She'd be a fool to miss this chance.
'Lucy?' He dumped the laundry on the kitchen table.
She winced. There were coffee drips on the table, She hoped they'd be soaked up by something that wouldn't matter, like knickers. Then she saw one of her lacy bras, a red one, at the top of the pile. She rarely wore it, since the lace was prickly, and she was more comfortable in pedestrian ones. She hoped Doc hadn't noticed it.
He had. He was staring at it with an amused look in his eye.
'Pretty,' he said.
She cringed. If they did get togeth
er, would he expect her to wear this sort of frilly? She rescued her wandering, ridiculous thoughts. He'd never want her after Alice. She stretched out towards it, not quite sure what she was going to do except that she wanted to hide it, but he grabbed her hands and pulled her towards him so that she was almost touching him. She willed her hands not to tremble.
'Do come, Lucy. Graham rang to tell me Cappuccino has got the message, and this time he will know what to do. I hope so, or it will be too late to mate Rosa this year. I want her babies born in decent weather, in summer.'
Lucy tried to be sensible, but not very hard. The touch of his hands was doing all sorts of unmentionable things. She was shivering all over. Her brain felt like blancmange. And if she shut her eyes she could see them in a huge, comfortable bed, and he was dribbling champagne on her tummy – which had suddenly and miraculously become flat and svelte.
'Fine. Great. Yes, if I can be any help, of course.'
She was babbling, but Doc looked pleased, and pulled her closer and dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. When he let her go she almost fell over, her legs were so wobbly.
'Eight in the morning, then. Oh, and Lucy, I'd hate to inflict my present housekeeper's food on you, so could you perhaps bring a picnic? Nothing elaborate, a few sandwiches and a flask of coffee.'
*
As she pegged out the washing half her mind was wondering if she was being stupid. Nothing would come of it. That kiss hadn't been a romantic one, it had been one of gratitude. And sympathy. The other half was trying to decide what she could buy for this picnic. She could make sandwiches, as he'd suggested, but that was a bit unimaginative. Whatever happened she was not going to inflict any of her cooking on Doc. And remembering last time, she decided to get things that would keep for a few days so that they could have a picnic on the way home. She could make coffee in the hotel room, so maybe cheese and biscuits, and chocolate, of course, and fruit that would keep. She had a cool bag she could pack these in, and with plenty of ice they should be OK. She made a mental note to stuff the freezer with plastic boxes of water she could use as ice packs.
Mating the Llama Page 12
